Push and Pull
by Wulfess
Summary: Chris may have died on a war torn Earth. But after becoming the General of a RTS-like command interface, he seeks to conquer all and bring enlightenment to all he comes across. Maybe he can even heal some old wounds, not all of them physical.
1. Peace is Merely an Illusion

Christopher Wright took a drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the floor and stomping on it. He only had... What? A few hours left? It seemed about that. He checked his marksman rifle again. It was a few minutes before the battle would start, he could already hear the pounding of artillery like a dull throb in the back of his head.

Everyone could and it didn't exactly steel their nerves.

Chris looked to his team leader out from the window of the chow hall practically yelling at the Commander. A few others had done the same, gone through bouts of anger, some just accepted they'd die. He didn't care and he didn't have to look far to see another example of how order had fallen apart.

Half of the teams were sitting drunk and the other half were gearing up with anything anyone could find in the armory. He could already see some of the heavier ordinance being distributed amongst them. Anti-tank launchers and rifles, grenade launchers, fifty cals in all shapes an sizes, and, he supposed, most dangerous of all, the cluster missiles.

Often reffered to as bunker buster's they would launch into or onto a site detonating upon impacting spreading dozens of smaller charges everywhere. The initial explosion could be described as problematic for any regular tanks and infantry, the smaller explosives could be described as catastrophic, ripping apart armor and infantry in the process, well... They were designed to be shot at or into bunkers to shred them to swiss cheese. They weren't always used for that however with their affinity towards killing _anything_ ground based.

The smaller missiles were being loaded into laser guided launchers and the larger ones were being loaded into their own larger launchers. He almost felt sorry for the enemy pounding at their front door.

Almost. But, not after they had bombed his life and everyone else's here out of existence.

Chris shifted his focus to his gear. He was wearing the standard multi-camo shit they distributed amongst the common soldiers, it really wasn't that very effective either, they were either fighting in towns and cities or strongholds and forts so having camo mean't for anything but that was just a tad bit annoying.

He checked his chestplate and his mag pouches attached to it. The army had switched out the older stuff into ballistic resistant, gel layered, and fully sealed armor with the bells and whistles they could get at a reasonably decent price. A large chunk of the military budget had went into overhauling just the U.S. arsenal. His marksman rifle was actually a offshoot of the M4 platform, it fired .308 rounds and used a simple design to allow it break into 3 different pieces just by twisting and turning a few things, that was mostly for just for transportation though. It was slightly longer than necessary and that's why they gave it the whole portability bits. For attachments he had set up his rifle with a scope, foregrip, and a flash hider.

There wasn't much else really, anything they were instructed to carry that was non-essential except for ammo would be left out, even if they had specifically been instructed to carry something if it wasn't useful, no one brought it.

Rules had broken down that way and they were stuck in the western half of the U.S. with half of the countries in the east beating at their door, Command had practically gone silent, and anyone left hadn't had much left in ammo or support.

It was a shit show and everyone knew it.

It started because some people decided hey let's fucking insult Russia because it was becoming more a dictatorship than anything. It all started over common disputes and nothing more, it then turned into political fighting, and then actual fighting. Soon enough everyone was in the thick of it, no one could trust anyone else and _everyone_ was lying in some way. He wasn't even sure how the U.S. go involved and fighting. Although, China and Russia did ally with a few other countries to push through Asia and Europe. Chris was also pretty sure Australia was nuked a few times, but, he really didn't know for sure.

He could feel his leg and fingers twitch erratically.

Fuck. He needed to de-stress.

He looked down and pulled a cigarette again from the pack he'd had in his pocket. He only had a few left now. He might not need them after this though so that was a plus.

"Hey... Umm, can I have a cig'?" Chris looked up after that slightly awkward sentence to find a younger guy probably in his 20's across from him reaching his hand out, he was a team leader as far as he could tell. He took out his lighter before wordlessly handing him a cigarette and lighting his own. The team leader pulled out his own lighter with a muttered thanks and lit it.

They sat there for a moment and merely prepared themselves. The chatter had stopped. No one moved. The artillery had gone silent.

The artillery had stopped, that meant the enemy was too close to fire at with friendlies at the farthest positions.

Everyone got up eventually, little by little they trickled out of the mess hall and outside into the fortified positions.

Everyone here knew there would be no mercy from the enemy and no less would be had from them.

No matter how hopeless the fight was.


	2. ‘Nade Launcher?

Chris felt the rounds hitting the shield of the fifty as he sprayed in the general direction of the squad he was suppressing, he blinked as heard something much larger hit the side of the shield to his right. He turned and looked to a moderate hole in the shield.

"Fuck!" He said, he couldn't stay on the fifty without getting a large hole blown into him by high caliber sniper so he climbed down and picked up his marksman rifle he before jumping out of the truck the fifty was mounted. He jogged to the edge of the wall the truck used to cover its front before pulling out his radio. Before getting to use it however he dropped into prone watching a rocket fly into the fifty mount.

He sat down at the corner of the wall and watched the truck burn for a few seconds. He was on his own, the guy that had gone out to the farthest wall with him took a sniper round to the chest, he looked toward the body of his teammate before crouching and moving to his body, he picked up his sidearm and, after some thought to the idea, prepared a dash to the wall surrounding the compound they were protecting.

He mentally ran through the chances of him actually making it before fully readying himself.

He heard the _zip_ of a bullet flying past and sprinted forward, he was roughly 200 meters from the wall he could get ther- He felt something hit his back before he fell forward and hit the ground.

If he were fully aware he would've commented on how fast that was before losing consciousness.

'Guess he was too slow...

- _Break_ -

Chria rolled over after a minute of being lucid again and reached around his back to his armor to feel for any breach, his back _fucking hurt_ and he wanted to do anything to stop it. There wasn't any breach but his armor had a nasty dent in it, likely some smaller caliber round. He sat up and groaned, even the ever constant snapping of fire going out and being returned wasn't as bad as the numb feeling in the back of his head.

He could hear the _zip_ 's of rounds being tossed his way, he could hear and feel the thump of his heart beating, but ignored them instead getting up and stumbling toward the walls, if he could get there- He could stop the pain, all he had to do was get to the walls... Chris began walking with halting steps to the walls, he would make it. He had to.

He idly thought that he might as well die here, it was inevitable he was going to die a meaningless death.

His walk wasn't disrupted by anymore snipers. He was almost disappointed

How _fucking_ lucky, too bad no one else had his same fortune.

- _Break_ -

Chris woke up blinded by light, his eyes adjusted and looked around. He could faintly smell blood in between the smell of bleach.

Chris was in the Infirmary.

He sat up with a groan and scanned his surroundings. His gear was on a small table to his left and beds were strewn about the room he was in some with presumed patients filling them, others with blood staining the sheets.

Some of the beds had people he recognized, he didn't pay them any mind as placed his boots on the floor and stood up. He nearly fell over. He tried again more carefully and stood up albeit somewhat wobbly.

Chris strained his ears to hear a faint noise approaching the door nearest to him. He couldn't if it really

He wouldn't say he jumped per say, but he was a little startled when a Medic barely got through the door before swinging around his... Grenade launcher? Why the fuck did a Medic have a 'nade launcher? The Medic dumped a few grenades out the door before slamming the door shut and sighing.

The Medic looked him up and down before sighing again and saying, "Look, I fixed your dented armor and bandaged that wound in your right arm. Since you seem to be up and around can you get your gear on while I fill you in on what's happening? I'm Jesse by the way."

Chris grunted in the affirmative before turning around to the small table and picking up his chest plate. He paused for a second, he had been hit in his arm? Sure enough he felt a fresh bandage, he grimaced before returning to his prior task. He shrugged on the back piece letting it hang from his shoulders and picked up the front piece and attached it through a series of clips to the back piece. Chris rolled his shoulders letting the weight settle on him before looking over to Jesse, he was looking out the window and looking very nervous. He attached the rest of the plates to his legs and arms before fixing his helmet to his head and finally picking up the gas mask and sealing it to his helmet giving his armor a full seal.

Jesse slid over to him, careful to not be seen through the windows. Chris raised a brow behind his gas mask, were the enemy already in the base? Jesse took a peek over the windowsill before ducking down again, "There's a few squads out there and the rest of the guys are trying to evacuate out the west side of the base, they broke through the east end, I need you to cause a distraction while I get the patients out of here." Jesse paused watching him, before continuing in a whisper, "Just try to stay alive for a bit alright? I've had to patch you up once, don't make me have to do it again."

Chris merely nodded grinning behind his gas mask, a suicide mission? Granted just trying to defend this base was suicide, making the effort to halt a more numerous enemy by himself? Insane. It had to be done though he could already hear them clearing out defenders in other buildings, however dulled the sound was.

Jesse gave a strained smile before moving off to move the patients. Chris picked up his rifle and loaded one of the twenty round magazines into it. He hit the bolt release and a round was charged. He flicked the safety to fire and shouldered it before stalking to the door and opening it.

His eyes and ears were assaulted with the chaos around him. He picked out a friendly marksman on a rooftop and an enemy squad heading his way. He sprinted to a nearby concrete barrier before laying down next to it and watching a enemy nine man squad creep up to a building to his left. He trailed them with his scope before popping a round into the cranium of a soldier carrying a rocket launcher and adding a bullet to the skull of another soldier this one presumably being their ammo bearer. They returned fire in the direction of his position before he put a bullet into their squad leader's chest. They hopped into cover before he could add a another kill to his total.

One of them stood up to throw a grenade into his position before he halted that idea when it was still fresh in their minds, by putting a round into the one who came up with idea of course. He was in the process of lining up another shot before something rolled up he wasn't expecting.

An enemy Armored Personnel Carrier. It had what looked to be a 75 millimeter cannon and a gunner with a light machine gun poking out of the turret.

Chris could only tell God to go fuck himself before the machine gunner started unloading onto his position.


	3. What, a Little Lead in the Shoulder?

Chris dived into the concrete barrier as the gunner dumped rounds into his position. He watched out a crack in the barrier as the APC had a enemy squad dismount from it.

He grimaced, well... At least there wasn't a tank? The APC could probably fill that role though if it wasn't designed for transporting infantry. Also, where was their armor? They had to have at minimum an old M1 Abrams lying around if their newer tanks had gotten blown up.

Although with the amount of disorganization they were going through they probably couldn't get anything done effectively with the armored vehicles they did have.

He heard the distinctive _crack_ of a .308 round from above and looked to see the friendly marksman put rounds into the enemy from above. He sighed and smiled looking over the barrier, if the marksman was smart then...

Yeah, the machine gunner was slumped over the turret. Chris discharged a round into a soldier about to fire on his newest friend and put another 2 down before the last of the enemy could return fire. He ducked down listening to the bullets whizz over him. Another _crack_ of a .308 round and he checked himself over, suddenly aware of the throb in his right arm. He was fine, he had five spare magazines, fourteen rounds in his current mag' and 11 enemy infantry with an APC quite literally right next to his position.

Chris hummed to himself a little bit as he swung over the barrier and put another round into another enemy soldier. He froze as he heard the deafening _boom_ of a larger armament firing, the place the marksman had been was destroyed.

He was on his own again.

Chris felt something smash into his right arm and he only registered the sound and pain after a few moments. Diving into cover again he checked his right arm to find a large hole in his right shoulder area. What was with enemy snipers and him today? The fact that his arm was also now essentially numb had him worried.

Chris heard the _whoosh_ of a rocket being fired and immediately went prone in case it was in _his_ direction. Luckily, it wasn't although the repeated blasts and force he could feel even behind the concrete meant a cluster missile...

In a place where friendlies were still slinking around in their little holdouts, firing one was fucking retarded!

You don't fire one of those inside the fucking base and especially not with an unknown amount of friendlies around you! Chris went a little dizzy for a second, and suddenly he remembered his rapid blood loss. He checked over the cover and found the whole road and everything in it in pieces, everywhere.

Chris stood up and his dizziness came back for a second and he felt the edges of his vision start to fade. That wasn't good. He grimaced and made sure to walk _slowly_ to the infirmary.

Chris barged through the door and stumbled into the infirmary just as Jesse got back to presumably retrieve another patient.

Jesse walked up to him keeping his eyes on the wound in his arm. "Holy shit. How much blood are you losing?" Jesse said in a panicked voice. He started to spray medical foam into Chris's arm.

Chris rolled his eyes and frowned at the emptiness of the room around them. "Where are the other doctors and Medics?"

Chris grunted as Jesse shoved a needle just a tad too large for his taste into the area above the wound. Jesse gave his arm a glance before going to the window, "The others are out there gathering people up and putting them on transports at the East end of the base. That foam isn't going to hold by the way, and I don't have enough supplies to get you patched up, I don't even have enough supplies for a lot the injured guys we do have." Jesse took off his helmet before running his hand through his blond hair.

He stilled for moment at the Medic's look of being completely lost and... _Pained_ , the fact it was so familiar that made it that much more unsettling.

Jesse took a trembling breath and looked over a few of the guys still in the room. "I can't even save the people still left in this room."

Chris nodded stiffly before ignoring the younger man's emotions and briefly contemplating the situation. There was no point to all of this was there. While he understood how things happened around people he never really got _why_. _Why_ try to delay the inevitable collapse and death of what was left of them? _Why_ would you get emotional over something you couldn't change? _Why_ would you care for someone who has no relation to you? As much as he desperately tried to otherwise understand that feeling, all he knew was that if someone is dying you accept it, you shouldn't feel something about the situation. You couldn't change it if you wanted to so why become so unstable?

It didn't make sense in his eyes. Chris supposed it never would. He was a creature of fact and logic where it was needed, if it wasn't needed he would allow emotion to slip in, otherwise he simply accepted what happened.

Chris got up before staring at Jesse and walking out the door. Maybe even to die. He was fine with that. What was there to live for anyway?

- _Break_ -

Author's Note: So I haven't really looked at any feedback yet, hopefully it's good. I would like to clarify some things though. The reason why this is in X-Overs is basically it's going to crossover into other things like Star Wars. I want to keep the military lingo also, if that becomes confusing I'll probably dial it back. I would however like to talk about backstory though for Chris, it'll slowly come through during the story but I'll also give background with the whole war thing while I'm at it. I just want to leave it vague so if any ideas come up I can just slap them in. Feedback is nice though and if you have any suggestions just PM me.


	4. Empty, in More Ways Than One

Chris woke up, for the second time that day, in a pitch black room. He was surprised actually the last thing he remembered was crawling into a building after taking a few smaller shots to his armor and yet another sniper round to his chest.

If they still gave out medals he was pretty sure he would have quite a few Purple Hearts from his adventures into sniper fire.

That didn't explain what he was doing here though- Wait, he felt himself over, there was no wounds- no cuts or scrapes- Nothing. The holes in his armor were still there of course as were the dents. As far as he could tell he was in perfect health.

That didn't make sense. He frowned, he was pretty sure he lost enough blood to pass out, and with having, what- Three holes in himself, there was no way he should be alive, much less healed.

Chris sat up taking in his surroundings. It was a medical ward obviously but not one he recognized, it looked old actually probably early 2020's if he had to guess. He got out of the bed he was laying on to check in the other beds, nothing. He looked closer at where he previously had lain down. His rifle wasn't there and far as he could tell he had none of his ammo except for the pistol he picked up.

He let his eyes adjust before looking towards the small stand next to the bed. A shotgun, one he could remember actually, it was mainly used by police and that was as much as his memory could tell him and a few boxes probably holding the shells for it.

Was it there before?

It didn't matter, he grabbed it up and loaded it with eight shells one being chambered. He kept the extra ammunition in his dump pouch and an extra eight in the pouches for magazines.

- _Break_ -

Chris cautiously kept the shotgun shouldered and swept the nearest rooms. Other than what he could recognize as offices and communication terminals he didn't find anything.

He walked down the hallway, it was eerily quiet and everything looked... New. Strange. He carried on down the hallway finding a few closets and rooms with bunk beds in them. All empty.

Chris turned left down the hallway finding what looked to be a mess hall. Nothing. He turned left again and the is time on the right there was windows letting actual light in with a door between them and to his left... A staircase leading up to the higher floors of the building.

He of course went right out the door to find a small staircase leading down and 2 guard posts with... M2 Browning's mounted? Those were outdated as fuck. It matched up with everything else though which was again, late 2010's and early 2020's.

Chris sat down on the steps and looked out to what was beyond that though. A huge, lush, and dense forest.

He nearly panicked.

It was impossible, any forest this big shouldn't exist, and especially since the bio weapons had been brought in earlier. At least, no forest in the US should be this big anymore.

It didn't make any sense.

Chris got up, did an about face and walked back into the building- Only stopping to check how many floors it had... Four.

He had something to do then while his brain processed whatever was happening.

- _Break_ -

Chris began his search of the building on the second floor.

He walked up the stairs into one of the hallways of the second floor of the building he turned left first and swept the rooms in that direction first. He found a lot of the same rooms he found downstairs but, he also found two locked rooms one labeled 'Armory' and another labeled 'Logistics'.

It was kind of obvious what they were used for.

There a few other rooms down the hallway to the left but none of them were labeled and they contained the same things the other rooms did.

In the next hallway to the left however had the staircase leading up to the third floor and another locked room labeled 'Production'.

The last hallway contained a lot of the more common rooms. Everything was still clean and the rooms were still empty too.

The lights were off still... He even tried flicking the light switches. Nothing.

On a better note the building looked to be some sort of headquarters or staging area.

Chris lowered his shotgun and looked up the stairs to the third floor. It was darker up there, almost completely black.

He frowned -Seemed like he was doing that a lot lately- and fished through his emergency pouch to find the small flashlight packed in it.

Chris flicked it on after clipping the shotgun on his back and taking the pistol into his right hand.

The room in front of the stairs was locked and was labeled 'Supplies'. He continued on and found only a few of the standard rooms.

Chris rounded the corner to the next stairway and found, surprise, the stairway to the fourth floor and a door labeled 'General's Office'.

He went up to the door and turned the knob expecting the same like the other doors. Surprisingly It opened with a resounding _click_ and he pushed the door to search the rest of the room.

It was fairly sparse, a bed, a trunk in front of it and a desk with a computer on it.

Chris walked to the bed and ran a hand over it. The bed was made perfectly and looked... New, like everything else.

He took off his helmet and gas mask to set them down on the soft sheets. He walked over to the desk and pressed the obvious power button on the tower below.

The fans inside gave a soft _whoosh_ as they stirred to life. The monitor immediately came on and displayed a login or registration section.

Chris frowned in suspicion, no one left a computer lying around that didn't have any login information and in an obviously military building you shouldn't have a computer that someone can just make an account and log in. It didn't make sense and had a major security risk for whoever used it.

He went through the registry, it only contained a username and password section. That's it. He put in Christopher as his username and his usual password.

It logged in without a hitch after he registered.

Chris went to the door and opened it checking outside. Nothing.

He sat down in the chair at the desk and just looked at the screen, it looked sort of like Windows just more streamlined.

Strange.

Chris sat there for a second before logging off the computer. This didn't make sense.

He sat there for second letting his exhaustion catch up with him. He pulled the magazine out the pistol he'd kept in his left hand and ejected the chambered round.

He kept the gun and it's ammunition in arms reach. He settled into his armor, and he prepared himself for sleep. With all the nightmares that came with it. Maybe one day he could escape them, just not today.

Maybe.


	5. Magic Bullshit

Chris sat in a dark room, it was pitchest of blacks and he couldn't see a foot in front of himself. He looked around through the inky black and got a sense of vertigo.

Everything felt off like it wasn't quite... There? It just shifted randomly, or at least seemed to do so.

He looked around at the bright library area he was in now. Hadn't he been here before? Of course he had it was the college's library! No that wasn't right he wasn't a student, was he? Look, there was David coming down the stairs from the second floor. David? He didn't know a David recently, what was happening?

David, his best friend, started talking, "Studying? This late? Come on man you should slow down a bit, you already memorized all the stuff right?" David was considerate like that. Wasn't it bright out a second ago?

The only David he knew wa- No. He was- No. David's alright, maybe he should take his advice? "Yeah I have it all down I just want to be prepared you know? You never know what questions they can throw at you."

He felt everything shift again and _twist_ like a knife.

His vision swung a bit. This wasn't real-

Chris stood in the collapsed building. He tried to pull- stop. He needed to pull out- Stop. He couldn't leave them, _they_ couldn't leave him, not like this.

Stop!

He held someone- No, everyone in his arms- please. They were gone, there was nothing he could- _Please._ Oh god. There was blood everywhere. It was on his hands, in his hair everywhere-

This wasn't real- He stood at their funeral. There weren't many people that could or would. It had to-

Chris was back in the black ink-like darkness. The dark was fine. It was far away from the painful memories and thoughts. If he just still kept moving, he would be fine. He just had to keep moving-

The moisture on his cheeks contradicted that. He contemplated curling in on himself and sitting still, at least to rest. Maybe if he faced it, faced _them_ he could?

Don't, why would he, they was no point in doing so just like there was no point getting killed after everything that happened.

He rejected the thought of stopping or staying still in anger and staggered into motion once more.

He was angered by the fact that he _dare_ think he could take all that he worked for, all everyone else had done for him, good intentions or not, and take them for granted...

He was slipping wasn't he? Letting mere dreams effect him?

They weren't real, they wouldn't hurt him.

- _break-_

Chris could feel the aftermath of the nightmare as he woke up. He took a shivering breath to help calm his rage. A knock woke him up.

Another more urgent one followed.

What if it was someone here to kill him? A idiotic thought, why would it matter?

His vision crawled over to the pistol on the desk. It would be easier wouldn't it? Why didn't he? Why would he?

No one would have wanted that. A bullet was easier to take coming from himself though.

Chris, with a force of will he could only barely dredge up, put a halt to his thoughts there.

He pulled the pistol to him and loaded it with it's lone magazine. He stared at it for a second, it couldn't solve all his problems, only some of them. He switched it over to his right hand.

Chris slid on his dented helmet and his gas mask. He checked the indicator light in his mask. Green. He was fully sealed.

He walked over to door and rested his left hand on the door knob. After a split second of deliberations he opened up the door and faced the person on the other side.

Chris first recognized how unarmed the man was, he was just wearing multicam fatigues and that was hardly fit for a combat zone.

This... Wasn't a combat zone. He could admit that.

The man was older than Chris, he may have been forty one but this older man looked to be in his late forties almost fifty. The man was proper to regulation while he probably looked just a bit haggard under his mask.

The man handed him a _very_ thick folder, "I understand you're adjusting and this is a bit strange to you but read through this sir, it'll give a bit of what's going on." The man began to step away nodding to him before stopping and giving him a small smile, "I also recommend reading up on the rules and regulations." The man gave him another nod before walking off at a sedate pace.

Chris just nodded to him slightly and shut the door. He sighed and put down the pistol on the desk before setting down the folder with it.

'Sir'? What the fuck?

He sat down and sagged pulling to the forefront of his mind the current situation. None of this made sense, everything looked straight from the 2020's and even worse he was in a forest which, unless he had been unconscious for a time longer than he thought, shouldn't have been there.

In fact _where_ was he, he didn't recognize it from anywhere.

He calmed down and shrugged to himself, he would roll with it as he always did. He opened the folder and started reading the page. It was going to be awhile even taking into account speed reading it.

- _Break_ -

Chris gently set the folder down as if it was going to explode. In the loopy land he entered it might have actually, if he stared at it hard enough.

It made sense in all seriousness. He read about the whole thing and despite his revulsion at what he was dropped into he had options. Alternate realities, magic, advanced science, and a level of adaptability not seen anywhere else.

He was dropped into a 'System' which because of his actions in life granted him control over a RTS-like command interface. The disc implanted in the back of his neck proved it as well, everyone in the 'System' was given one, it gave whoever had them access to everyone else's skills and knowledge connected to the 'System'.

He'd tested it out too and fuck was it strange, he could 'Pull' skills into his mind but they were somewhat temporary as he had to focus on the skill being there for it to actually be there. As soon as he 'Let it go', the skill was lost. He had grabbed as much stuff about science as possible and he just knew it...

Once he'd let go of the skill he still had the knowledge but just not the true understanding or the proficiency of it.

He had the know-how of an extremely skilled and non-specialized scientist, someone who had more general knowledge than specific stuff.

While extremely useful that was actually the side effect of the intended purpose. It's design was to integrate everyone connect into a... Understanding of sorts. Everyone in the 'System' had everyone else's perspective on _everything_.

If he had to compare it to anything it would be a sort of Gestalt Consciousness or Hive Mind.

This apparently had the side effect of complete peace and productivity within his... Group?

No one could actually access anyone else's experiences, it was more like anything not useful just wasn't included.

The 'System' now that he was the General, more of a title really, revolves around how he saw things. So an importance in integration, adaptation, and understanding were the core premise of his... Government? Faction? He didn't know.

He was told however that he had a remote command view and that he controlled both the military and civilian aspects of his, faction. He had, what amounted to, total power.

It was total bullshit. Magic, a bad idea, and unlimited power loaded into one extremely... Sensitive, perhaps, powder keg.

But... Having total peace and a undeterred focus just made it too sweet a deal to pass up. Especially with the chance to create what amounted to total happiness for everyone...

He would if only to make a world that wasn't as fucked as his last one.

All he had to was figure out the stupid link and commander view.

- _Break_ -

AN: So I mainly post from mobile and I can't exactly look at reviews, which isn't great! I had this idea for a bit and thought 'Hey, this could be interesting! Especially if I could literally incorporate whatever I wanted.'. I also made Chris completely soulless so expect some war crimes. The planet he's on is something I came up with in my free time so hopefully it'll hold up. Remember to review please and shoot me a PM if you have a cool idea!

-Wulf


	6. The Endless March

Chris eventually found out the whole interface thing... It was, nice. If he had to describe it that was, it was like multitasking but, he only had so much attention to go around.

It also had built in instant messaging to whoever else was on the System. Why? Dunno, maybe whoever built it had a weird sense of humor. I mean why put that in there and not any other useful features?

Whatever. He was simultaneously looking at an overview of the area around the headquarters and in his office on his bed. It was hard to wrap his head around to be honest, he could only pay attention to one at a time but he was always 'in' both his view and the overview.

When he first got into the overview it actually gave him a fuckin' HUD and everything. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke... He just shrugged it off anyways and did as he was told.

He was given a run down on units and how they worked... Of course it also had to be complicated. There were currently seven unit types with more being added as he created different units, Builders, Infantry, Heavy Infantry, Transports, Vehicles, and Heavy Vehicles. Each unit type had two variants Veteran and Elite, Veterancy was gained through combat and the Elite variants were just better than the base unit types.

Now structures, which all you had to do was build and maintain, each structure would cost a certain amount and that wouldn't change except through research and upgrades. All structures had to be built by some kind of builder, unless a building was transported some way. Okay, that made sense.

Of course for civilian structures he had to label which area was used for what and it would auto build and change based on materials and tech available. Pretty fuckin' cool, especially because it worked on its own and didn't have to be done manually.

Finally it told him to plan out his base and first build a few builders to get started on that plan, it gave him a few tips on how to build a base. Then a menu for the buildings he could build and finally told him to basically get ready to be eventually fucked over by something.

Shit that was a lot, and that wasn't even the full version just a basic run down. Also the whole 'Your going to go wrong somewhere at some point so be prepared' kind of soured him a little bit. Ah, fuck.

He flipped through the menu in his head of the buildings he could build. It was like only 10 things, HQ, Training Ground, Armory, Mine, Tech Lab, Plasma Generator, Gene Pool, Turret, Wall, Roads, Cover, and a Tank Trap. Jesus. One of these things wasn't like the others.

He went over to his command view and looked at his surrounding terrain. A small hill to the west and the rest was just forests, everywhere.

He sighed and picked up the large folder on his desk and flipped it open, skimming through it before setting it down.

He needed to get moving.

Getting up, he grabbed a uniform from under his bed and put it on. He paused and stared at his armor for a second and another before finally reaching the squirming thought in the back of his head. If technology was around ten years back than when he was taken from the army... Then his armor... Would, if given to a Tech Lab, buff his fledgling tech base.

He kept staring at the armor anyway. He didn't have a Tech Lab, he had to build one.

He sighed again and picked up the armor walking to the foot of the bed and setting it down again. He first had to requisition some things, like a dresser, and gun.

He would probably have to borrow something to shave also.

- _Break_ -

He looked his face and remains of his, almost, beard. Heh, he could have been sad at losing that. He could have.

He walked over to the dresser and trunk, he'd wrangled out of the requisition's Officer, guy was a dick, and pulled out his patches denoting rank and name. He put the patch for his name on the left of his chest and the patch's for rank on his shoulders, both stuck onto the Velcro with ease.

He looked into the mirror he'd been using to cut his hair and looked at just how alien he'd become. He didn't care much for his appearance but the light scars all over made him cringe as he'd peeled away the fur attached to his face.

Now, he looked... Proper, somewhat proper at least. He cut his dark hair short and he got rid of the hair on his face as well, he rubbed the smooth skin before pulling his hand away and continuing his observation. His uniform was brand new and to spec, he'd made sure to remember anything important about appearances.

There was something off about how he looked though... It was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Hmm, wait what? He- He, looked fucking younger! He looked to be in his late 20's _at most_. The _fuck_ is with this shit?

He forced himself to calm down, he peered closer at his reflection. He was a mirror image of his older self. Just younger as retarded as reiterating that to himself was.

He ignored the pieces of the past that threatened to break out into his mind and continued his inspection.

His brown eyes still shown their almost amber color in the locker room's dim light, that reminded him of- he stopped his train of thought, that line of thought wasn't needed, he didn't need the past, and without even a grunt picked up his things.

He could see himself. That was enough for him, it helped he was in regulation too. He wasn't much of a sight to behold though.

He didn't care, why would he?

- _Break_ -

The newly acquired items were maneuvered into his room and set up. He sat down contemplating, well, everything.

He had been prepared to die, although fighting the already lost war against a more numerous and well equipped fighting force wasn't his preferred method of suicide, he couldn't just walk into a oncoming train.

That would mean he had completely lost and that everything he did would have been for nothing. That, wasn't going to happen then and taking as many of the fuckers that decided the East coast would look better turned into glass, was a great alternative.

That was his somewhat limited objective when he joined the Army.

Anyone left in the US Army after the East coast siege, was someone who had lost everything and either needed direction or someone who wanted revenge...

He'd seen too many soldiers break down crying after no word from command was heard and the enemy artillery decimated friendlies at an alarming rate, with the advancing enemy taking negligible losses.

It tore at him little by little as he would dive headfirst into battle and come out of it... slightly wounded, he was lucky really. He would watch younger guys fade out of life and eventually with his steady fighting retreat with what veterans survived each small firefight, it became normal.

He hated the shit out of it.

Until that final engagement of his and he was nearly killed by a sniper. Bleeding out as he was he had killed multiple squads with a variety of weapons he had found on his dead comrades.

But, he had survived, he had something a goal, and every achievement he could aspire to gain was viable, and people could be united and completely at peace. That... Was something he could gladly give his life for.

 _-Break-_

He eventually drug himself through the grinding gears of his mind that was slowly eroding away to face, _one_ , and only one of his problems. The nightmares... The link gave him enough perspective and knowledge that he knew they would become an issue.

Not to mention the fact he was already a walking bundle of issues.

He could admit he couldn't face problems like a regular person would. Hell, he was surprised he was still functioning after all the shit he'd done. You don't slice open someone's skull with a melta knife and come out of it 'okay'. Civilian life, if he would ever involve himself in it, wasn't possible for him, ever.

He was getting off topic. Anyhow, he couldn't just snap his fingers and go 'Cool I'm good now.' that wasn't how anyone worked. Whenever his family... Came up at all, it scared him how he lost them, it made him afraid that they were just gone and he couldn't just change his psychology.

He just had to think about things no matter how shitty they were.

While his parents weren't the best or even really acted like parents, the people that were like family elevated him. Now that they were gone, he didn't have any motivation, everything he did before was for either his sister or friends. But they were just ash and bone now.

Pushing himself further took more and more effort, day after day he would have woken up and just shut down...

He, before, was crumbling away slowly. His momentum in life gone and he was deathly afraid of things just being still.

His offensive had turned into a fleeting defense.

People he cared about had been destroyed without a second thought, and his life was being assaulted without any reprieve for him.

There was no stopping the juggernaut on a course toward the carefully constructed fortress of his life. All his relationships had been destroyed and it had been on a course towards total annihilation of he himself. He would have been put down, forced to be still _forever_.

His morals were another more iffy question in his life... he was going off topic again.

The crippling fear he felt had- had been rectified and he felt rejuvenated, he had something that helped him march on and something that would advance endlessly...

He had lost family but he could accept that. He could create a new one, even if he was hesitant to do so.

He wouldn't retreat this time and there would only be an eternal offensive on all the problems that plagued _his_ people.

 _His_ march wouldn't be halted and his nightmares would just have to be trampled underfoot.

All he had to do was figure out the fucking link and it's System.

 **Overview:**

Current Structures Unlocked: HQ, Training Ground, Armory, Plasma Generator, Mine, 'Tech Lab, Gene Pool, Turret, Wall, Road, Tank Trap.

 **Author's Note:**

So I haven't uploaded in a bit... I have a good reason as well, so I have been finishing up the flooring in my house as it's kinda been unfinished, like... So in the hallway the new flooring used to go halfway up the hallway and then it just stopped mostly because when I was putting it in before I basically ran out of free time. So, yeah?

I had this chapter finished but didn't really have time to upload it I guess? I'm done now so that's good. I don't really have much else to say.

Ah, so before Chris wasn't really someone I had put a lot of thought into, but now I feel like I can genuinely write him in a way that makes sense to me. I thought of him before as just a soldier or an edgy dude, mostly the soldier thing though, but, I thought about who the character was and can now finally write him as a person.

So yeah shoot me a PM if you have a cool idea for the story and give a review, it's nice to get a bit of criticism about your work... as long as it's constructive anyway.


	7. Idiocy

When he was alone he thought, what he thought about varied but mostly he thought about fleeting things, he didn't like to linger on his thoughts.

Despite this being incredibly random, it had a lot to do with his situation now, it had been three days. Three days. Of constant moving, working, and solving of things.

He hadn't lost his discipline at the end of his time in the Army, but it grated on him. There was too much much to do, too much to be written before he could actually establish himself.

He had people coming up to him giving tips and asking questions about how things were going to go, but...

To put it into perspective while he had been thinking that he had to organize general things like what went where, and who did what.

It wasn't only that. It was _everything_. He was supposed to, and this was only some of what he was supposed to work out in some way despite not having been briefed on how these were going to be implemented, how ranks were organized (i.e. Chain of Command), the rules around combat (That was a little vague), the naming of said ranks before, entire military doctrines, and even the iconography that went into every building, unit, vehicle, uniform, power station, et cetera, et cetera.

This amount of time used to just figure what he was going to do took up all his time so he wouldn't figure out anything besides organizing himself and what Resources were.

That was the crux of it, while he was gaining resources every moment he took to prepare his future 'world spanning government', he was wasting time. Too much time.

Any enemy could be lurking around the corner, just waiting, and watching them for a chance to strike.

- _Broken_ -

"I propose a new law to lower the legal drinking age!" The loud and dare he say proud statement resounded across the Golden Hall and blew away any conversation that was had at that moment.

Niclos von Kristan nearly, very nearly, gave a groan of annoyance at the Forgemaster's declaration. But that would have been 'Rude'.

The Forgemaster was loud man... an important man as with a set of plate fitting for his title and a war hammer engraved with elegant runes, no doubt it was also enchanted with some truly devastating effects.

The King glanced at him for a moment with the ghost of a smile before settling into a neutral mask. "What say you, Duke Kristan?" The King asked the question but he knew the meaning in his words.

Why must they all do this to him?

He quickly exhaled out of his nose before talking to avoid laughing. "As I, and most likely everyone else on this council knows the legal drinking age is just a formality, and one we may plan to get rid later. So I believe the suggestion of lowering the drinking age so your Apprentice's may legally 'get hammered' isn't needed this session of the council, Forgemaster Stahlen."

The boisterous Forgemaster gave a hearty laugh, "What am I supposed to do except complain about it? The Gods know I have nothing else to do on this council." The Forgemaster snapped to signal one of his servants to bring him a mug of what was presumed to be ale. Although he couldn't see from his side of the table.

He rolled his eyes at the remarks coming from the various Northern Lords across the table.

The King gave a lopsided grin to the Forgemaster, "Scribes can you strike what just occurred from the records before we continue?" He casually asked the scribe in the corner. "Thank you. There is one thing we need to talk about with you Forgemaster, a very delicate issue we currently have not resolved." His words were deathly near silent, but the words carried such weight that they resounded in the chamber.

The humor in the air shriveled and died with the King's quiet words. Most of the Northern lords shifted their eyes away, with a few leaning forwards in anticipation at the topic. The Southern lords for the most part narrowed their eyes or visibly tensed.

A Northern young Duc very nearly stood up from his seat in anticipation before more words were said.

A blond haired Forgemaster wearing a nearly entirely rune covered set of plate armor and mail slammed his fist into the intricate gold table they all sat at. The man spoke with barely restrained fury, "I do believe we had ended discussion of this before, _my King_." He pushed his throne away from the table before continuing, his anger increasing, " _They_ are people, everyone at this table knows that. We can't just 'get rid of them' as you suggest! With that as well, the South does not abide by the spoken word of this Council like your Northern provinces do, only the legislation put into effect by you, yourself my liege."

The man continued to seeth as the King and all other 21 members of the Council looked at each other with the tension elevated to new heights.

The King merely eyed him before looking around with a crooked grin, "You know I didn't say anything about it last session, but if you're all so tightly strung about it then it must be important."

The fair-haired Forgemaster stood in response about to speak, he had simmered down somewhat at the Kong's words but his brows were still furrowed in frustration.

The eager young Duc from before stood up in response to the blond Forgemaster rising with an arrogant smirk, "We had never decided anything, merely that we of the North were of the opinion that those _things_ you harbor inside your territory ought to be destroyed as the Gods believed they should have been long ago." Those of the South stared at him, most of them with visible rage reaching far above acceptable levels. The Duc gave all an exaggerated shrug before continuing, "Only the dim witted would assume that the Northern half of the Council would force the South into dislodging those parasites. We had simply _discussed_ the potential of the Council to rid of those beasts with a law.

He listened to the Duc only shifting his jaw in frustration. The North were playing on the fact that most of the Divine Tombs and Knightly Orders existed within the North and if they looked upon the transcript of the meeting, although they often did not, they would preach to masses of the 'Wicked' South and how they lowered themselves to protect the 'Monsters' within their land. While he himself did not have his Lord City within the South, he certainly liked them more than the pretentious North. He also had a certain the North for the fact that it was mandatory for full members of the Divinities' Religions to destroy all monsters defined by their 'Holy' leaders. Fucking zealots, most members of the Church were.

Of course the Duc was also not-so-discreetly insulting the South. He gave a sigh, why did he accept Lordship again? Were the council going to again tell him to fix the situation by doing something outrageous? Probably. Was he going to argue with them? His bitterness got the better of him with the thought that he couldn't, he was boxed in politically with his every move being watched.

Actually, now that he thought about it, not that he hadn't had the notion many other times, being a Noble really just took away his freedom did it not?

He ignored the thought before thinking slightly on the issue at hand. He didn't like or dislike Demi-Humans and intelligent monsters. He also couldn't quite grasp the reason why the Northern Lords would be so... He hummed to himself in thought earning a glance from the Duke next to him, desperate perhaps? He couldn't be sure as he wasn't very good at deciphering people, he was a man of action after all not a mind reader.

He heard the frustrating conversation lower slightly and listened in a bit. He immediately regretted it as all the words spoken were drenched with poison, souring both his mood and the 'debate' happening.

He waited a moment and someone snapped.

He barely listened after the first barely unrestrained swearing match was started with some group and their opposing side. Instead he sat back and lazed in thought, and absentmindedly he unsheathed his sword under the table and ran his hand over the cold, thin blade and the elegant flowing script of the runes ingrained into it.

With nothing better to do he thought back to better times, and almost anything was better than the political mess this was going to become. He thought of blood, war, and the horrifying screams but, most importantly he thought of his few friends left.

How he would miss them when they passed away in peace, unaware of the bond they had once shared.

- _Cracked-_

Chris _hated_ the fact that things were managed directly by him until, apparently, when things hit a nebulous point in which things would become directly integrated and his government would operate without direct control.

It irritated him to no end that he had to set up a entire _government_ before Builders would automatically fix roads.

Actually, scratch that he looked into the link a bit digging up the necessary information before knowing that building would auto build as he set them to be once a Capital Building was set up. Which it wouldn't tell him when he could unlock, fucking phenomenal.

When building things they had to be connected in a certain radius to be powered so he couldn't build a random chain of buildings somewhere, everything flowed out from the power generation. Buildings also had a upkeep, which was determined on a building by building basis.

Hmm, what was he at resource wise again?

(Current Resource Gain/Stockpile, 530 Material 10 Daily, 530 Power 10 Daily, and 250 Special 0 Daily)

Right, so... What did that mean? He dug around his link a bit picking up all the information on the subject. Okay, wow. Half of that he didn't need to know.

There wasn't some kind of succinct glob of information instead of this mess?

Whatever, he understood it, first and foremost how many resources could he stockpile? An infinite amount of course, because that made perfect fucking sense. It was like the System didn't know whether or not it wanted to act like a game or not.

Next was Material, which was exactly what it said it was, the amount of physical stuff he had. If anything had to be built that actually existed in 'the physical plane of existence' then Material was required. Funnily enough all people required to be made was Material. Material was also used to upgrade buildings and transport things, the latter I had no idea why it didn't just use Power but whatever.

Hmm, a small, thought but were they still using completely fuel run vehicles? He prodded the link a bit for the information... Yes, they were? Jesus, the US had already dealt with that shit before things went to hell, with fusion being pushed so hard and electric vehicles becoming more popular most vehicles were either hybrid, liquid fuel and batteries or a small fusion 'cage', or completely run on fusion cages. With a fusion cage being a contained bit of plasma forced as small as possible within a magnetic field to sustain it there, with the plasma eventually giving out more energy than was needed to force it there... essentially that was fusion.The cages themselves could whatever size was needed, small or big, it was just that the bigger they got the more inefficient it was to initially use them with the energy needed to sustain it being more than was put out until the plasma hit acceptable levels and produced more energy than was being put into it.

He was drifting off again with the waterfall of sheer knowledge dropped into him. Okay, Power, this was the easiest anything that used well, energy or electricity, used Power, with a capital P and with that the center of his existence had to be around his Power generation. This was because as power was being conducted around, it didn't matter how as everything had some kind of inefficiency, some was lost through inefficiency in either the stuff used to conduct it or the method used to get somewhere. So, as buildings got farther from his Power generation it would cost more Power the more they were away. He wouldn't even get started on the upkeep of maintenance on buildings or Structures as they were officially called in his interface, since every Structure had a daily maintenance with certain structures being exempt.

He felt his irritation skyrocket with the long-winded explanation being implanted into his brain. He could tell a lot of these were half thoughts given to him as the System rushed the information in him too.

Special was, like the name detailed special. It couldn't be produced normally with structures and the only way to obtain it was from building unique Structures, and those unique Structures could only be built once as they were, he paused before groaning out loud at his self explanatory thought, unique.

He had a sudden urge to bash his head into wall after going over the System's explanation of the Resources. It _was_ made like an RTS and he had a feeling this was done intentionally, like some cosmic joke was being played on him.

Anyway! The Special Resource was used to create one of a kind... He dug around link to the System _again_ , ah, anything of course. Well, how _handy_!

There had to be a better way to digest the information needed to properly run his... Command-Interface? There was an actual birds eye view mode he could go into for everything to directly run everything like a Real-Time Strategy game.

He immediately put on the brakes, there had to be a what was it? There had to be a-

Wait a minute, he dug into his link. Wait a motherfucking minute! What the _fuck_!

His irritation had reached beyond him becoming _angry_ , no, he was fucking _furious_!

There was a tutorial. It didn't even tell him, if it did he wouldn't have been so uninformed with his lack of knowledge on his situation.

It _apparently_ contained everything he needed to know about his link, the System, and his Command-Interface... And, it didn't tell him.

Just, why? Who designed this?

In the the back of the rusted gears and cobwebs of his mind the System gave him the impression of looking away and shuffling its feet in embarrassment.

In that moment he felt his brain halt in shock before rebooting.

Chris gave half an instant of thought before he thought 'Fuck it.' and dived into the tutorial.


End file.
